Satan
by Tessaiga71
Summary: She felt really guilty, not that she'd let you see.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Two things. One, I will put the disclaimer ONLY on the first chapter of my fic. And,so again, I haven't planned this; it is purely a spur of the moment. I have idea for this, but no direct plan. I'm also thinking of mixing the 3rd person view up after this one. Thoughts on this?

Disclaimer: I dont own Glee, because if I did, i'm pretty sure kids wouldn't be able to watch it.

Satan.

Satan. That is what they called her. Nick named after the devil, because, from what all they could see, she was the child of his one and only.

If you fucked with her, she made it known, made it publicized, that she would rip your heart out with a vicious verbal confrontation, parallel with a contageous, permanent mark of embarrassment, and finish you with a beating worthy of a demon child.

She made sure that if you pushed her, she'd push you back, only much,much worse. She was determined from enrollement, that should anyone try to take advantage of her _ever_ again, she would end their high school career; their life.

Should a fist be raised in her face, you could expect a hospital bill.

Yell at her, and expect a poem of explicit words to detangle from her mouth, and wrap themselves around your neck. Don't kid yourself either, you're not a special one; they'd squeeze until you retreat in agony.

But, to insult her talent; that was a death wish.

Not that she let anyone know about that.

If you got with her man, she would act her part; be it halfheartedly. Little did her peers know, she was quite the brilliant actress.

Lock eyes with her man, and she'd rip them from your sockets like a doll. Hug him, and expect to end up in a wheelchair the next morning. Actually, expect to be unable to live, what with your spine extracted from your body.

Talk to him, and she might show you mercy by adding your tongue to her collection. Or, she might steal some stuff from the science lab, and make a nice home for them...in your throat.

But, sing to her man; she probably wouldn't actually care. Her eye wasn't really on him.

Not that she let you see it.

If you stole her title, you could expect a massacre of unease. Stealing the title of Satan was a horrible thought, but some tried.

She tended to them.

One time,a girl, a really nice brunette, transferred to McKinley. After a conversation with their superior, the nice brunette was deemed captain. During day one, she was met with only slushies.

Day two, she got the lunchtime special; threatening the lunchlady helped.

Day three, she got the corridor express; being thrown into lockers by passers by. Threatening the student body helped majorly.

Day four, the poor girl transferred. Again. Satan went back to captain, eagerly. And somewhat guilty.

Not that you got past her glare or anything.

Not that you really wanted to know Satan.

Not when her fist was right in your face, locked and loaded for impact. Not when her spit drenched any hope of acceptance, of change. Not when she threw your friend into the lockers, and demanded he do exactly that to the new girl.

And not that she wanted you to know her.

Not that she felt confident enough to show her true self.

Not if she couldn't do it to the blonde.


	2. Inside

AN/ I want every odd chapter to bring a statement 3rd person point-of-view thing, and every even to be how they actually feel, in 3rd person. I dont know how this will turn out, so it's an adventure for the both of us here. I genuinely prefer first person, if you can't tell by the excessive descriptive words. Leave your thoughts afterwards :) Adios!

 _Not if she couldn't do it to the blonde_

She was just fine with that too.

Or at least, she tried to convince herself.

What they didn't see about Satan, was her insides. She scared everyone shitless, terrified them until they left her personal life alone, threatened the curiosity out of anyone who _thought_ about her feelings.

That was how she liked it. At least, she thought so.

Inside, the horror known as Satan was alone, confused, scared even. Yes, I went there. All these things she showed, were the opposite of her insides.

She didn't use the dolls like the other kids, and they laughed at her.

She didn't know why her dad threatened her, but she learned not to question quickly.

She didn't care to be on top, but her abuela scolded her laziness; demanded that Satan do something to make her proud.

By high school, she was normal.

She played with her dolls; the students.

She learned not to question the system, only threaten it.

And she verbally beheaded anyone that dared to displease her abuela.

Simple.

But, what absolutely no one saw, was her broken heart.

Satan didn't want to be the victim anymore, she was too scared that people would discover her secret, and in turn,destroy her life. She was too scared that someone would find her weakness, and embarrass her,AGAIN.

She was scared she'd end up a lima loser, like her father said.

She was confused that her father said no,but mother said yes. She was confused as to why not one person _really_ tried to get to know her.

She was confused as to why nothing impressed her abuela, who she did everything for.

Satan didn't understand how even in Glee club, the loserville of losers, she couldn't get a willing buddy.

That was what her family called her; a loser.

All Satan actually wanted, was to be resected equally. To have the standard group of friends who roam hallways, and go out in the weekend.

She wanted to make her abuela proud, like a normal child could. She'd get straight A's and not a glance from her. She wanted to be supported by friends and family, to achieve something, and have their supprt. She wanted her father to just leave again, like he did all those year ago.

She wanted his negativity to leave with him too:her mother was starting to get short tempered.

Satan, the devil, wanted to have a passion that others applaused. She'd sing her heart out in her room, and all that she'd recieve was a yell to shut up.

She'd put everything int some lyrics, and find them all grubby when she got home. She'd grab her mic,and find a chunk was missing. She'd find her amp gone, sold.

All she wanted was to perform.

To get an applause. A real one. To be envied.

To be loved.

She also wanted the blonde to stop avoiding her. To stop purposely turning away from her eyes.

To actually look at the sincerity in them.

Not that she'd admit any of this to anyone.

It scared her too much to open herself up so much, and risk being ripped apart again. Girls say their daddies are the only men they can rely on; they were wrong. She couldn't let mere students do that to her.

It'd be way too much.

And if anyone heard a peep about how she _sings_ out her emotions, she'd be buried six feet under.

If anyone found out she regretted sending all these students to hospital, scaring people away from her, threatening any possible friendship away; they'd call her a fake.

A softie.

Satan, was not soft.

Satan was a badass.

But Santana wasn't.


End file.
